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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28382769">His Star Student - Snape/Reader</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/slutforsinclair01/pseuds/slutforsinclair01'>slutforsinclair01</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Blow Jobs, Classroom Sex, Dom Severus Snape, Dom/sub, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Humiliation, Oral Sex, Public Humiliation, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, School, Secret Relationship, Sub Severus Snape, Teasing, Tongues</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:07:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,987</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28382769</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/slutforsinclair01/pseuds/slutforsinclair01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader is a female Slytherin student. Hogwarts AU.<br/>17 is the age of consent where I live, so Reader is not underage. Let me dream.</p><p>Tags will appear as: (first name)/(last name)</p><p>You've always been top of potions class, but now Professor Snape wants to reward your hard work.</p><p>   "What does that smell like to you, (first name)?"<br/>It took you a moment. He wanted you to respond aloud this time.<br/>"Y-you..." your voice shook - you realised you couldn't meet his eye or you'd surely faint.<br/>"Very good." He inhaled deeply into the swirling mists that skimmed the top of the cauldron. His eyes darkened as they returned to you. "What do you think I smell, (first name)?"<br/>"...Me?" Your gaze met. You didn't faint. You felt... just right, looking into his eyes of obsidian.<br/>"Excellent." His tongue teased you from between his lips. "You always were my star student."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Severus Snape/Original Character(s), Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s), Severus Snape/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>184</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>His Star Student - Snape/Reader</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You had always liked Snape. Well, at the very least, you believed he was alright. Your assertion had proven far more generous than that of your peers, who more often either dreaded potions class, or purposefully aggravated the professor as their idea of fun. These were the same students who, despite achieving "Outstanding" in their O.W.L.s, had barely made "Acceptable" in their mock N.E.W.T.s. With the real exams around the corner, they really should've been paying more attention. You couldn't blame the professor for his frustration. It was only you, the Granger girl (who always spoke out of turn) and occasionally Draco Malfoy (when he felt like it) who ever really put in any effort.</p><p>You had sussed out Snape a long time ago. His ideal student was someone who paid attention, who didn't speak until invited to do so, who only gave correct answers when called upon, who turned in perfectly formed essays (you had noted that despite his practical mind, he enjoyed your artistic flourish - potions was, after all, an art); and who was of course highly skilled in the brewing process. </p><p>The hardest part to master had actually been the essays. Snape had given you average marks on every last one of your essays until last year - sixth year - and despite your best efforts to be both concise and accurate, this trend had seemed it would continue. Upon comparing essays on Veritaserum one morning in the Slytherin common room, you couldn't help feeling that your essay was regurgitating precisely the same drabble as Malfoy and friends. You didn't want to do bare minimum work. Hell, Draco shouldn't have been satisfied with that either - as Slytherins, you should be striving to succeed. </p><p>Regardless, you knew a criticism of Malfoy's work would land you in some sort of bother, so you had kept your opinions to yourself.<br/>
Instead, with only hours to go before your essay was to be turned in, you decided to rewrite the entire thing - you used the exact same facts and accuracies as before, but you made effort to be a little more aesthetically narrative in your description of the ingredients, the brewing process, and the administration of a perfectly brewed vial (though you tried not to be exceedingly verbose, you knew that would've rightly irritated the potions master altogether).</p><p>You had earned Slytherin twenty points that day, along with a stony-faced compliment from the professor himself - "Well done, (last name), you've done us Slytherins proud. Couldn't have written a more polished essay myself. See me after class". The rest of the class dragged on as you anticipated his private assertion of your efforts.</p><p>The last students shut the great mahogany door behind them, leaving echoes of hushed laughter in their wake. </p><p>"Where did you learn to write like this?" Snape inquired, clutching the essay in awe, his dark eyes seeming to glow as they skimmed the parchment. "Why the sudden change in writing style?"</p><p>"Well, sir, I just sort of thought - what would I like to see in a well-crafted essay... and I didn't want to be the same as everyone else, barely scraping by... I want to be an exceptional student, Professor - I want to reach my full potential," you stammered.</p><p>You were almost at a loss for words at his generosity, but were still slightly intimidated by the great looming figure before you. He was aware by now that you were interested in becoming an apprentice potioneer under Zygmunt Budge, and that someday you hoped you may be skilled enough to become potions mistress at Hogwarts. He had to have known that any compliment from him at all would make your heart soar.</p><p>After a brief silence, the professor spoke.</p><p>"You have pushed yourself to new limits, (last name). You have proven you can achieve an "Outstanding" quality of writing. I expect nothing less of you from now on." His gaze shifted from the parchment to you, and a tiny trace of a smile breezed his face momentarily. "You may go."</p><p>Still in shock, you scrambled to gather your things. In your attempt to move more quickly, your clumsiness had only served to slowed you down. Oh God. You couldn't afford to lose the affections of the professor now. You had worked too hard for this. And... he had noticed. You smiled to yourself.</p><p>To this day, you swear you had heard the faintest chuckle as you had dashed out of the classroom with wracked nerves. To this day, Snape is secretly your favourite professor.</p><p>Today, however, appeared to be an average early-spring day for a seventh-year Hogwarts student such as yourself - though you had learned ahead of time that you would be revising the love potion, Amortentia, in preparation for the N.E.W.T.s.</p><p>For some strange reason, you had dreaded entering the classroom that day, to the point that you had put it off for so long that you were almost marked late. Luckily, you were teacher's pet, and although attention was brought to your poor timekeeping, Snape didn't make any personal comment. You didn't say anything in reply, because you knew a student's personal life was of little concern to him. You went to a desk at the back of the class (your usual seat at the front had been taken by Parkinson, naturally), you set your satchel down, and took out your quill and notebook.</p><p>You already knew this potion - upside down, back to front, and quite possibly in mirror-writing. You had tried so hard to brew it over last summer, and to wear it as a perfume to impress the tanned, beachy muggle boy you had met on holiday. Instead, your best muggle friend had become obsessed with you until you had elected to discontinue use. Thinking back now, it was quite embarassing. You supposed this unfortunate memory had been the subconscious reason for your delayed arrival to class. Revising awkward events was nobody's favourite passtime.</p><p>In the middle of the room sat the potion itself. It was in a large cauldron, roughly the size of a cooking pot, and the lid seemed to rattle ever so slightly in brief intervals. You recalled that it was lidded so that none of the students could breathe in its intoxicating fumes, unless supervised. You wondered what your interpretation of it would be, now that the beachy muggle had broken you heart? Who was your next great love? Could it be someone in this room, perhaps? You smirked to yourself, stifling a nervous giggle.</p><p>"Something funny, (last name)?" A tall shadow loomed over your desk. "Should you continue with this uncharacteristic behaviour, I shall be given no choice but to send you to the hospital wing to be tested for laughing draught."<br/>
The class murmured a sneer.</p><p>As is true with all students, the moment you are told not to laugh, the harder the laugh becomes to control. You had always been a girl to laugh when under extreme stress. You didn't even know what was funny. You clasped a clammy palm over your mouth. But this was worsened still, as the dozen or so Gryffindors and Slytherins craned their necks with hopes of catching the humiliation of the star student. You couldn't hold it in any longer.</p><p>The silence was broken by a snort, then a giggle, and finally you were absolutely belly-laughing in the face of a furious Professor Snape.</p><p>"OUT!" he roared.</p><p>Something sort of stirred within you. Your laughter ceased immediately. Snape had never had any reason to shout at you before. It was sort of... thrilling. You hurriedly packed your things and quietly made your exit.</p><p>You were certain that he hadn't been serious about going to the hospital wing. You were also certain that Snape would want to see you again after class. So you just set your bag down on the bench in the dungeon corridor, beside the classroom door. It was slightly draughty, which caused a chill to shudder across your spine as you paced back and forth impatiently. You couldn't sit down, you were much too nervous. You really, really wanted to go back in and just take the class as normal. What on earth had caused you to act so stupid?</p><p>The remainder of class seemed to drag on for what felt like an age. It was impossible to concentrate on anything except the way Snape had bellowed at you. It made your heart sink into the pit of your stomach. It also gave you a shock of excitement, somewhere else on your body.</p><p>No... NO... Oh God. You were making things so much worse for yourself by imagining dirty things about the professor. Your mind wandered as to how his eyes would feel, skimming across your figure as they took you in, how his lips would feel on yours, how his firm hands would feel on your body... STOP. You'd have to face him in a few minutes, and this added stress would just make you burst into laughter again.</p><p>So you cried instead.</p><p>Great. Now he'd think you were nothing more than a crybaby. You felt your eyes and lips swelling as unformed tears spilled slowly down your cheeks. You finally plonked yourself down on the bench, with your head in your hands.</p><p>The bell in the clocktower rang out at last. Class was over.</p><p>After another minute or two, the great mahogany door finally opened, and students filled the corridor. Snape was always a stickler for finishing a class properly, no matter how long after the bell the students were dismissed. He was probably making up for the time you had cost him at the start of the lesson, you thought, as shame filled your core once again.</p><p>His lanky frame darkened the door. "You may re-enter," he mused, with a look of disgust etched on his face.</p><p>That handsome face.</p><p>WHAT?!</p><p>This was getting ridiculous. He was your teacher! Thankfully, with the addition of tears to your expression, any further giggling could, perchance, be disguised as sobbing.</p><p>You took your satchel and followed him, as solemnly as you could, into the classroom.</p><p>"Assume your usual seat, (first name)."</p><p>You were on a first-name basis now? He had never used your first name before - not without following it with your last name, anyway. This display of acquaintanceship made your cheeks burn, though you believed no colour filled them. You never were someone who blushed, really.</p><p>You slowly sat down at your favourite seat at the top of the room, right in front of Snape's own grand, antique desk. You sniffled quietly, dabbed your eyes with your sleeve, and began to unpack your things.</p><p>"That... won't... be necessary..."</p><p>The potions master turned to meet your eyes. Your heart fluttered. What the Hell...?</p><p>He started to drift towards the centre of the room, where the cauldron of Amortentia still stood, bubbling away. Oh no... was he going to...?</p><p>Yes, was the answer to your upcoming query. He was indeed going to ask you to smell the potion. Given your current state and recent thoughts, and that no one else had occupied your mind in this way for almost a year, you knew for sure what to expect.</p><p>You shuffled nervously to the opposite side of the cauldron. As you began to lean over, to finally meet your doom, a firm hand pressed your left shoulder, guiding you back gently.</p><p>"Not... yet..." Snape smirked, arching his brow, "though I like your enthusiasm..."</p><p>Did he know? There had been rumours circulating among the students that he was a Legilimens, that he could read minds - in which case trying to deny your sudden, overhwelming feelings would prove a futile effort. His gazed strengthened, burning into your soul, as your knees weakened, and you gently clutched the edge of the table on which the cauldron stood.</p><p>The two of you remained this way for several breaths. Did he enjoy torturing you?</p><p>The classroom felt cooler when it was empty, and although you were his star student, you had never found yourself completely alone with him before. You'd never had detention with him, and he had always arranged the extra credits classes as group work.</p><p>Just as he turned his back to you, you gave in. You stopped trying to shut him out. He was going to wear you down eventually, might as well get it over with. The next few seconds were the longest moments of your life.</p><p>"Hmph", he snickered quietly. "Thought as much".</p><p>He'd seen it. Oh God, sweet Jesus he had seen it. All of it, you were sure. He was going to make you sorry you'd ever received your Hogwarts letter in the first place -</p><p>But he started sifting through student's notebooks, which littered his desk. He picked one up and began to flick through its rough pages. The sound of the aged paper danced in your ears, and once again, a shiver crept down your spine. As he paced back and forth, the professor began to ask you basic questions - about things as simple as the Forgetfulness and Wiggenweld potions. Were these first-year notebooks...? Was he... testing you?</p><p>After you had answered every question correctly with minimal hesitation, he snapped the notebook closed. He handed it to you.</p><p>"I doubt you'll ever need it, your memory serves you well - but here you go", he said in his deep, velvety voice.</p><p>"...My first-year notebook? You... you held onto it? I..."</p><p>"Thought you had lost it - no. I've been holding onto it these past few years because although basic in its teaching, this notebook explains concepts in such depth and precision that I could never hope to reach. There you are", he nodded, holding the notebook further towards you.</p><p>You politely nudged the notebook back to him, your ice-cold fingers brushing his, which were surprisingly warm.</p><p>"No, sir, I insist. You hold onto it. You need it more than I do". That last sentence sounded like you were teasing...</p><p>Snape slapped the book on your forearm as a friendly response. He chuckled, almost silently, and carefully stowed the book high on a shelf. Indeed, he had clearly interpreted your comment as teasing. He turned away once more.</p><p>"Tell me, (first name) -" your name sounded like honey when it visited his lips "- what ellicited the intense laughter at the beginning of today's class?"</p><p>"Playing dumb, are we?"</p><p>He turned sharply on his heel and shot you a glare.</p><p>A hand came up and clasped your mouth, just as it had done an hour ago, but for an entirely different reason. Now you really had teased your professor.</p><p>You had a point, though. He definitely knew what you were thinking.</p><p>He tossed his robe out behind him and put his right hand on his hip. The fingers of his left hand grazed the rim of the cauldron, in a way that made your spine tingle for a third time. It also made you quite giddy. The fingers eventually rested atop the handle of the lid. You licked your lips in anticipation. It was only then that you recalled the fact that Snape could be fired for this sort of behaviour, if he was caught.</p><p>"I wouldn't worry about that," he purred. He took out his wand and with a quick flourish, every shutter in the classroom was closed and the classroom dimmed. He strode toward the door - "if we are going to do this," - he interrupted himself, casting a soundproofing charm at the door - "we are going to do it properly - after all," he said, turning to you again, "we Slytherins know that there's no shame in anything, so long as you aren't caught." He finished by locking the door, using a charm you knew to be impenetrable by Alohomora.</p><p>Alright, he could definitely read minds. He had definitely seen your dirty thoughts. He pensively placed his wand back in the inside pocket of his robes.</p><p>"Miss (last name), do you know why I sent you out of the room?" He began to circle you slowly.</p><p>You didn't bother to answer aloud - there was no need.</p><p>"Incorrect." So it hadn't been purely because of your behaviour...</p><p>He approached you from behind, and his towering frame leant over your shoulder. His simmering, breathy voice moved to your ear.<br/>
"It's because I was the one who couldn't contain myself."</p><p>You audibly gasped. But there was no time to be shocked, or embarrassed, or even flattered - the man was making eyes at you like nobody had before.</p><p>He whipped around you, grabbed your shirt collar, pinned you against the stone wall, and using the same hand, undid three of your shirt buttons. Using the other hand, he pulled your Slytherin robe off in one swift movement and tossed it aside. He immediately started ravaging your neck, licking at it hungrily, sweeping it with his lips. You stifled a moan, as you grasped at the wall behind you, looking for something to hold you upright as your knees buckled.</p><p>"I had to get you out of the room, to save you for later," his hushed, rumbling voice turning urgent, almost desperate. "I needed you all to myself..."</p><p>His lips looked more pink than usual, and his eyes softer, as they looked you up and down, taking in your form. You could smell his cologne - it smelled like a mixture of extinguished candles, old parchment, brandy, and herbs. </p><p> With that, he grabbed you again by the collar and yanked you back towards the cauldron. He removed the lid in a grand gesture, and your head automatically bowed closer to its pearlescent surface.</p><p>Him.</p><p>Extinguished candles, old parchment, brandy, and herbs. But there was something else you couldn't place - you'd never smelled anything like it before - that just made it distinctly him. </p><p>Your still-swollen eyes slowly fluttered and searched to find the gaze of the tall figure as he smirked with lust.</p><p>"What does that smell like to you, (first name)?"<br/>
It took you a moment. He wanted you to respond aloud this time.<br/>
"Y-you..." your voice shook - you realised you couldn't meet his eye or you'd surely faint.<br/>
"Very good." He inhaled deeply into the swirling mists that skimmed the top of the cauldron. His eyes darkened as they returned to you. "What do you think I smell, (first name)?"<br/>
"...Me?" Your gaze met. You didn't faint. You felt... just right, looking into his eyes of obsidian.<br/>
"Excellent." His tongue teased you from between his lips. "You always were my star student."<br/>
You couldn't help but notice the ever-intensifying throbbing between your legs. 

</p><p>To Hell with it. You'd wanted him all along, and you'd only just realised.</p><p>His eyes were fiery, as he let out a sigh, akin to that of a smoker exhaling after a long drag. He pushed you backwards on top of your own desk. You were on autopilot at this stage, knowing exactly what to do. You were almost 18 - you'd seen enough films with this sort of thing.</p><p>You kicked off your shoes and they landed with a thud on the flagstone floor. You lay back on the table for better leverage. Your stockings and underwear soon followed, and he helped you with those. Snape kneeled down at the table and grabbed your hips, pulling you back within his reach. He tossed your skirt up on top of your stomach, and his warm hands prized your thighs apart, though they didn't need much coaxing. Nothing could have prepared you for what happened next.</p><p>Your soaking cunt was suddenly met with what could only be described as fireworks. You opened your eyes - you hadn't even remembered closing them - and there he was, his brow furrowed, with the rest of his face buried in your warmth, his large hands curved around the part where your thighs met your hipbones. Oh God, this was incredible. He was a perfect mix of firm but gentle, as his tongue pleasured you in ways you had never imagined, as he let out throaty displays of enjoyment. His tongue furled around your entrance, ever teasing, as once again, you had to stifle a moan.</p><p>"Make as much noise as you want," he slurred, his glassy eyes peaking through messy raven hair, as they met your face again, "that's what the bloody charms were for."</p><p>He dove back into you, as you gripped the edges of the desk. You relaxed, knowing you couldn't be heard, and let out a deep, primal moan. This seemed to appease the man, who growled in pleasure, and began to swirl his tongue around your throbbing clit. You were so sensitive - your legs jerked back in response. His rhythm was ecstasy. He began to nibble gently, and his lips enveloped you in a warm kiss. He suckled it carefully, biting with just enough teeth, moving his lips with just enough vigour. You whimpered, your mind in an erotic blur. He reintroduced his tongue to your soaking depths, his pace quickening. You were burning up inside, and you felt yourself warming between your legs, increasing with the intensity of his movements. His attention then turned exclusively to your clit. You felt a deep surge - your moans heightened in pitch and you began to sweat. His nibbling, suckling, licking and kissing was becoming too much for your poor body to bear. Your hips rocked and bucked of their own accord, and you felt your fluids running down your inner thighs. Your breath quickened, and Snape groaned into you, as your quivering form finally gave in. You heard an almost deafening scream of pleasure that sounded nothing like any sound you had made before, as you came, squirting into his beautifully attentive mouth.</p><p>He happily licked you clean, lapping at your cunt like a cat to milk. His tongue swirled at your soaked thighs as your breath began to slow and the silence returned once more. You lay flat on your back on the desk, exasperated. You shut your eyes. Goddamn, this was devious. But what fun! You finally felt comfortable enough to giggle again in his presence.</p><p>He must have known this time that your laughter came from a place of arousal. Biting his lip, he grabbed you by your green and silver tie, which caused you to choke a little, and he threw you to the floor. He whipped a chair into your blurred vision, and sat himself upon it, as if it were some sort of throne. He hesitated with the zipper of his trousers, quite obviously desperate for you, but he instead invited you onto his lap.</p><p>"Sit," he instructed, tapping his leg, and like the well-trained bitch you were, you did as you were told. You straddled him, placing one arm around his shoulder, the other hand on his sturdy chest. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer on top of him.</p><p>"I saw your daydreams," he growled in his smouldering tone, "I want to make them come true for you," his breath flickered at your ear as he ran his tongue along the sweet spot of your neck. He spoke again, his voice like thick caramel. "Because you've made me happy all these years, with your attention and tenacity, now I want to do something for you in return."</p><p>He pulled his head back to admire your face. Nobody had ever really admired you before. His eyes were like dark Belgian chocolate - you'd never once been close enough to him to see the brown flecks in the abyss of each iris. You'd also never been so close that you could feel his warm breath on your cheek. His lips were glossy from sheer desire. The reflection of light disappeared from his eyes again as a hand wound itself into your hair, and he finally kissed your lips. It was perfection. He was perfection. All these years you thought you had merely looked up to him as an inspiration. How amusing that thought was to you now, as your tongues met and your lips brushed each other.</p><p>The two of you whined and groaned at the sensation of the other. The hand that wasn't in your hair, was placed firmly around your waist, guiding you as your throbbing, wet pussy rhythmically grazed the firm bulge in his trousers. This was it. This is what you had always wanted. You grasped at his collar in sheer desire, but his hand moved from your hair and slapped your hand away. You obeyed, and kept grinding against his bulge, which you felt was increasing in size by the second. His hand moved to your breast and you let out a yelp of joy. There you stayed, for what could've been five minutes or five lifetimes.</p><p>You truly could have stayed in this position forever, but you could tell he was growing ever hungrier for you by the moment.<br/>
The hand that had been on your breast moved up and around your shoulder, guiding you lower, as your knees slid to the floor. You knew what your duty was now. You licked your rosy lips, your mouth watering in anticipation of the treasure he was about to unveil to you.</p><p>At last, after what felt like an eternity, the zipper of his trousers was down. His mass was greater than anything you could've created in your mind. It protruded from him in such a magnificent way, eagerly awaiting its mistress. Eagerly awaiting you.</p><p>You positioned yourself comfortably between Snape's knees, and tried to work out the best approach to fitting his enormous cock into your mouth. He wasn't just long, he had girth too, and you pondered how you were going to stop your jaw from dislocating.</p><p>Growing impatient, a hand reached into your hair again and forced your head down on top of him. You had to resist the urge to gag as he filled your throat, and you reminded yourself to breathe through your nose so as not to smother.<br/>
You carefully used your lips to cushion him from your teeth, and you began to suck on him as hard as you possibly could. He had been gentle with you, but now you were comfortable with the situation, and you knew you needed to impress him - despite your lack of experience.</p><p>The now-familiar purr of pleasure escaped his lips, which soon became a deep, guttural, breathy moan. You moved yourself back and forth, up and down his shaft, your pace quickening upon him as his pace had quickened upon you. His hips seemed to slump in the chair, his usually-stiff posture quite crumpled under your influence. He emitted a series of poorly-hushed profanities, and he whimpered your name once or twice, the sensation overtaking him entirely. He was much quicker to respond to your touch than you had been to his - had it just been nerves on your part, or was he just craving you that badly?</p><p>You continued to carefully conceal your teeth so as not to hurt him - you were going rough, but not that rough. Eventually, though, in between gasps of euphoria, Snape begged you to give him your teeth as well. You accepted his pleas, and the graze of friction this added for him had him clutching at you for dear life. His hips began to thrust him deeper into your throat than ever before. You moved together in perfect synchronicity. He could hardly take it, he was totally at your mercy - and the two of you loved it.<br/>
His deep moans soon became raspy cries and shallow breaths, and finally, with a strangled whine, he blew his load into the back of your throat. You didn't know what to do - but then it hit you.</p><p>The Amortentia.</p><p>This had been the final, unidentifiable scent you had caught from the cauldron. It was incredible. It was complete.</p><p>You remembered that he had cleaned you up, so you thought it good manners to return the favour. You swallowed his sweetness graciously, and licked him clean. As you did so, he lightly stroked your hair in gratitude.<b>
You were relieved to be able to close your jaw, because it had been mere moments from locking. You raised your fingers to your cheek and massaged the sore muscles, your mouth still dripping with his fluids. The dark-haired man placed a finger under your chin, tilting your gaze upward to meet his own.</b></p><p>
  <b></b>
</p><p>The bell in the clock tower rang out. Lunchtime. </p><p>"You've been such good girl, (first name)," he praised in his breathless, silken tone. A smirk curled at his lips as they delivered a forehead kiss.</p><p>You both quickly sorted yourselves out; you slipped your knickers, stockings and shoes back on, did your buttons up and threw your robe over yourself. Snape zipped himself up, swung the chair back into its place, put away the cauldron of Amortentia, straightened his robes, then wiped his face and offered you a clean handkerchief, which you accepted. Your professor reminded you that this was your little secret. You nodded in obedience. As he released the lock charm on the door, you dashed out of the classroom.</p><p>You sat alone at lunch that day, much too excited to be able to engage in any small talk with other students, much too excited to refrain from spilling every detail to anyone who may have asked what he had done to punish you for laughing in his face.<br/>
Our little secret, you thought, snickering secretly to yourself as you reached into your pocket and stroked the handkerchief he had given you. You'd wiped his scent from your face with it, and now you could carry it with you everywhere. You locked eyes with the professor, as he sat down beside Dumbledore at the top table. He was quick to look away.</p><p>Our little secret. Surely, you thought, that meant he'd be inviting you back for more.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Will continue this if it gets enough interest. I left it open at the end for that exact reason. Let me know in the comments if our reader character should tell us more about her private times with Professor Snape.</p><p>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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